Eternal Rose
by hopelesslymusical
Summary: Even the most beautiful rose has thorns… A look into Rosalie's mind.


**Disclaimer: I do not own _Twilight,_ the characters, or anything related to _Twilight._ That honor goes to Stephenie Meyer.**

Eternal Rose

_Even the most beautiful rose has thorns… _

The rain pelted at the window as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. The falling water hit the house first softly, but slowly grew louder as we stood in silence.

"Rose," he finally breathed, interrupting the raindrops as he wrapped his arms around my waist. He placed his head on my shoulder and sighed. I stared into fire in front of us, but I could not feel the warmth. The shadows on the walls were flickering from the flames that I knew would die soon. I envied the fire in that way, that they could be taken out of the world as suddenly as they were brought in. How they could create more flames just as easily.

I stared at the flames as they creped up the final log in the pile, as if willing it to burn. I could feel the hate seeping from my eyes as the wood turned to ash. I felt my eyebrows furrow together as the timber crackled under my gaze, almost as if it was mocking me, laughing at my misfortune.

The yellow-orange glow to my skin almost made me look human, a very pale one at that. How I wish I could be human, to live, to die, to be a mother. I would give up everything. My beauty, my family, my immortality, even my true love. Nothing could compare to the desire to become human.

Even for a moment, I would give up those things. Just for a month, a day, even an hour to live the life I should have lived would be worth it. I pulled away from my love to sit on the faded, green couch. I pulled my legs up to my body and rested my chin on my knees, never taking my eyes off the fire before me. I stared beyond the flames, into my human past, trying to remember the vague moments that my weak human memory could not retain. Even if they were not the most pleasant of times, I still feel a need for the connection to my human life, to the life I was meant to lead.

I suddenly felt a presence on the seat next to me. All I wanted was to wrap my arms around his neck and forget, but I could never forget what I am damned to.

I broke my gaze from the now dying embers and buried my face in my knees, my body shaking with the tearless sobs that my body could not produce. My breathing quickened as I cried silently, only the sound of the raindrops could be heard. An arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me into the only person that understands. I shut my eyes trying to block out my thoughts, but they were too much. He rocked me back and forth, trying to calm me, but it did no good. No one could ever give me what I wanted, what I needed.

I only show what I am truly feeling to my love. I put on a show for everyone else, more for their benefit than mine. I act tough and mean because it is the easiest to fake. Even if their words stung, I am practiced enough to not let it show. I focus on my flawless looks, the only thing that I have that others envy. My golden curls that cascade down my back and my matching amber eyes that mark me for who I am. I can see it on everyone's faces as I walk past. The lust in men's eyes and the hatred in girls'. Sure, I'm beautiful, but compared to all that they have, I feel as though I got the shorter end of the stick. I guess you always want what you can't have.

I looked up at the man I loved, and for a second, I was peaceful. Just for a second, I felt nothing but warmth and love for him. He understood. He would give me everything if he could. I turned away from his burning eyes. He knew he could not help, that he was totally and completely powerless.

We intertwined our fingers as I laid my head down on his chest. Neither of us moved except to take the breaths we no longer needed to take. We did not need words know what each other was thinking. Love can do that to you.

The rain started to slow as the embers completely died. The moon emerged from the clouds and shone brightly through the closed window, illuminating us in the dark room.

No tears showed on my face because of what I am. There was no red around my eyes, or mascara running down my cheeks. How I would like to be marked, in even those small ways, of my grief. My existence is an endless torture, made a little better by the man whose arms are around me.

Tomorrow, I would have to put on the show that is the bitch, Rosalie. But for tonight, I am just eternal Rose, in the arms of my beloved.

* * *

**This is my first fanfiction and I would love to thank everyone who read this. Please let me know what you think about it, even if you absolutely hate it. Flames are welcome – I just want feedback. I am also thinking of adding more equally angsty oneshots with other characters. Ideas about that are welcome as well.**

**- hopelesslymusical **


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